


Five Times Spock Doesn't Tell Jim He Has a Sister (+ One Time He Doesn't Have To)

by wedelia



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Michael plays long-distance matchmaker, Misunderstandings, Spock is Michael's bratty little brother, Spock's mom is alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2018-12-08 03:56:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11638446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wedelia/pseuds/wedelia
Summary: Jim just wants to know who this Michael person is.





	1. -1

It happens for the first time during one of their chess dates. _Though calling them ‘dates’ may just be wishful thinking,_ Jim muses.

Spock’s eying the pieces on the board in that speculative way of his. Jim can practically feel him deliberate between moving his knight or one of his pawns, hoping to capture Jim’s bishop; Jim comes up with contingency plans for either. He wonders if Spock realizes how transparent he can be, sometimes.

It’s all in his eyes. They can be surprisingly expressive, especially when he lets his guard down, stops trying to keep his emotions reined in...well, at least stops trying as hard as he usually does. Several months have passed since their chess sessions ( _not dates,_ Jim reminds himself) became a regular thing, and Jim’s still equal parts fond and smug that Spock trusts him enough to relax around him.

Spock’s hand reaches out to hover over his pawn -- Jim totally called it -- when there’s a little buzz from under the table. Spock’s communicator.

After fishing it out of his pocket, Spock glances at the Caller ID and blinks. He looks kind of startled.

Jim’s immediately intrigued.

“Sorry, Jim,” Spock says, eyes darting up from the screen. “I should probably answer this.”

Jim watches as Spock greets the person on the other end of the line and tries to listen for any clues about the topic of the conversation. It must be something important, if Spock put their game on pause for it.

A few seconds later, Jim notices with no small amount of incredulity that Spock’s _blushing_ , the tips of his ears flushed a light shade of green.

_What?_

Spock notices Jim noticing and the green darkens. “That’s illogical,” he mumbles - _mumbles!_ \- into his communicator, petulant. “And inappropriate.”

Then, “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

Spock hangs up. Clears his throat. He says, “Let’s get back to the game, shall we?”

And Jim desperately wants to ask questions, but he sees the new tension in Spock’s shoulders and the shy, almost flustered way he’s averting his eyes, and he stays quiet. His curiosity isn’t worth sacrificing Spock’s comfort. Especially not over something that seems so… personal.

“Your move.”


	2. -2

The next time it happens, they’re on the bridge working the alpha shift. It’s been a slow morning so far; Jim’s making steady progress on the mountain of (digital) paperwork that’s been piling up in his PADD, typing up reports between sips of coffee.

(“That’s not coffee, it’s glorified liquid sugar,” Bones says every time he sees Jim drinking it. But Jim maintains that the amount of cream and sweeteners he puts in his coffee is perfectly reasonable, no matter what the doctor thinks.

Or Spock.

Or the ensign in the mess hall who’d given him a rather judgmental look last week when she spotted him pouring sugar into his coffee cup right before he was scheduled to work a night shift.)

Anyway, nothing much is going on, and that’s part of the reason why Jim’s so interested when a call comes in from Engineering.

“What’s up, Scotty?” he asks, leaning back in his chair.

“Well, Captain, I need your permission to beam aboard a wee gift for Mr. Spock.”

Jim sits up a little straighter. “Someone’s trying to send Spock a present?”

That catches Spock’s attention. He arches an eyebrow in Jim’s direction, somehow managing to convey the message _What exactly is going on and how does it involve me?_ through his facial expression alone. It’s one of his many talents.

_He’s so great,_ Jim thinks, a little dreamy. Then he snaps out of it. _Now is not the time, Kirk._

“Aye, Captain,” Scotty says. “We’ve scanned it, and it should be safe to bring on the ship. I can beam it directly onto the bridge if you’d like.”

“Sure,” says Jim. “Go ahead.”

Then, once Scotty’s voice isn’t in his earpiece anymore, “Any idea why someone might be beaming over a gift for you, Mr. Spock?”

“I presume because it’s my birthday, Captain.”

Jim pauses. A pang of guilt hits him. He’d forgotten Spock’s birthday - or, well, he’d never known it in the first place and now he’s been caught unawares by it.

He gives his first officer a warm smile (because that’s the least he can do) and says, “Happy birthday, Spock.”

Spock’s lips twitch back.

Not quite a smile, but Jim will take it.

“Thank you, Jim.”

Then, with a quick shimmer of white light, the gift appears in the middle of the bridge. It’s a medium-sized lump covered in glittery pink wrapping paper. Spock gives it the hairy eyeball for a moment before walking over, scooping it off the ground, and reading the note taped to the paper.

Whatever’s on it makes him flush an endearing green… for the second time this week. Jim’s starting to notice a pattern.

Spock doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to unwrap the present. He sits back down, and for the remainder of the alpha shift it sits tucked under his work space, mostly forgotten.

Mostly.

Jim’s eyes keep landing on it. He wonders what’s inside, and who the sender is, and how they know Spock. He wonders if they… _This is unprofessional,_ he thinks, and goes back to work.

When their shift is over and they’re walking back to their separate quarters together, Jim peeks over at the lump in Spock’s arms and reads what's on the card: _Remember what we talked about! ;)_

_A winky face?_ Jim thinks, frowning.

“Are you alright, Jim?” Spock asks, raising his eyebrow in a way that says _concern_.

(At this point Jim’s got a mental catalogue of Spock’s different eyebrow arches. His favorite one is the _what are you up to now?_ eyebrow, because it’s usually accompanied by a kind of softness in Spock’s eyes… maybe. Maybe Jim’s imagining things.)

“Yeah,” Jim says, maybe a bit too brightly. “I’m fine.”


	3. -3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Spoiler alert!) 
> 
> Just a heads up: Spock in this chapter may seem a little out of character, because he makes an impulsive decision towards the end that doesn't really align with his usual Vulcan self-restraint. I imagine Michael's been building an idea up in his head for a while and he finally just decides to go for it.
> 
> This chapter also features some hand-wavy descriptions of the effects of alien venom. Please suspend your disbelief :)

The third time is a disaster. Or, perhaps more accurately, it happens at the end of one. An away mission goes badly wrong -- not as badly as it could have gone, maybe, but bad enough for Jim to be grouchy about it -- and he’s beamed back onto the _Enterprise_ with a ripped shirt, some new cuts on his arm from when a gigantic carnivorous plant thing’s teeth had scraped him, and that sense of impending doom he gets every time he realizes that he’ll probably have to go to Sickbay.

Spock’s waiting for him in the transporter room, brow furrowed ever-so-slightly. On anyone else Jim wouldn’t think much of it, but when Spock wears that expression he looks positively worried.

(Jim wonders if he should be concerned by how he doesn’t really care if he keeps getting injured as long as it means that Spock continues to look at him that way, like he _cares._ Like he cares about _Jim._  His stupid, sappy crush on his first officer is obviously spiraling out of control.)

“I have come to escort you to the Medbay, Captain,” Spock says. Then he adds, dry, “Dr. McCoy thought you would be more amenable to the idea if someone walked with you.”

_Ugh. Of course he did._

“I’m fine, Spock.”

Then, at Spock’s skeptical look, “Really. I am.”

Jim gestures at his torn left sleeve, which is mostly shredded at this point and has pretty much lost the right to even be called a sleeve. It looks like it’s been put through a blender and sewn haphazardly back onto Jim’s shirt. “This is just a fashion statement,” he says, trying for earnest. “It’s all the rage with kids these days.”

Spock examines him, seeming to fixate on Jim’s scratched-up arm. Jim catches a flash of something in his eyes -- consideration? worry? -- but then it’s gone. “Alright. If you are fine, then you should have no problem going to the doctor to see if he agrees.”

Jim can tell when he’s been backed into a corner. He steps away from the platform, intending to meet Spock at the doorway - and then stops, because _Oh_ . Right. The gigantic carnivorous plant thing must have injected him with some kind of venom when its teeth brushed him -- _why is this my life,_ Jim thinks, mournful -- and now the venom’s starting to catch up to him. Movement makes him dizzy.

He feels even dizzier when Spock strides over to hold him up after his knees start to give out. Is it just his imagination, or is the floor slanting up to meet him? “You know what? Maybe visiting Bones is a good idea after all. Good plan, Spock. Let’s… do that.”

Spock steadies him as they make their way down the corridors, stopping every so often so Jim can take deep breaths and try to convince himself that he’s not walking through some kind of endless labyrinth. The white walls surrounding them all look the same, and they also all seem to somehow be fluctuating -- it’s terrible.

Why is Sickbay so far away from the transporter room? That seems like an egregious oversight by whoever designed this ship. Jim wants to file a complaint.

“I’m never going near any kind of plant ever again,” he declares, halfway to their destination, feeling dizzy and nauseous and generally miserable. “Gigantic carnivorous ones or otherwise.”

Spock, a vegetarian, quirks an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe I’ll go near some plants,” Jim relents. “But no plants bigger than I am.”

That seems like a reasonable compromise.

“What about trees, Jim?”

“You’re being too practical. Stop it.”

Jim can almost _feel_ the eyebrow gymnastics going on beside him. He wishes he could turn his head to look at Spock without being hit by a wave of seasickness, but alas.

“You sound like Michael,” Spock says, quietly, probably thinking Jim’s too disoriented to notice.

Joke’s on him. Jim hasn’t been able to stop noticing things about Spock since the day he imprinted on him like some kind of lovesick duckling a number of months ago, and this is no exception. “What are you talking about?”

Jim doesn’t say _Who’s Michael?,_ but he definitely thinks it.

Spock stills. Jim’s arm is resting around Spock shoulders, so he can feel them go stiff. Then Spock says, faster than usual, like he’s _nervous_ , “I have recently been given the advice that some impracticalities are worth pursuing.”

Jim’s nonplussed. He also feels like he’s one wrong move away from vomiting, so it’s safe to say that he’s juggling a lot of things right now. “I don’t understand.”

“On second thought, now is not the right time to have this conversation. We should postpone it until  --”

“Spock,” Jim says, sharp. He’s confused and dizzy and doesn’t really have the patience to try to figure out what Spock means. “What’s going on? What impractical thing are you thinking about doing --”

And then he shuts up, because Spock is kissing him.

Spock is kissing him, and now Jim feels dizzy for an entirely different set of reasons than he did a couple seconds ago. He’s somewhat grounded by Spock’s hand, warm and soft and slightly calloused, framing the side of his face, and it’s lucky that Jim’s arm is already wrapped around Spock’s neck because that just makes it easier for Jim to pull him nearer. Closer.

Jim’s not completely sure this isn’t some kind of strange fever-dream.

Eventually Jim’s reminded that no, he can’t keep kissing Spock, no matter how much he wants to, because he’s still vaguely motion sick and once he comes down from the initial adrenaline rush of _kissing Spock_ (!), the dizziness returns with a vengeance.

He might turn a little green. And not in the cute blushing Vulcan way. “Okay,” he says, stunned, after stepping back. “Okay. We definitely do need to talk about this later. But first we need to get to the Sickbay _right now_ or I may throw up all over you.”

Jim’s too queasy to laugh at Spock’s panicked look.


	4. -4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically just pure, unadulterated fluff. Oops. I'm not responsible for any cavities you get while reading it.

The fourth time involves Spock's mom, who Jim adores. If he wasn't so smitten with Spock (his boyfriend! Spock's actually his _boyfriend_ now; it's been nearly three months and Jim's still thrilled over it), he would have already asked for Amanda's hand in marriage.

 "Did you get those baby pictures I sent you?" she asks him, playful, when their call connects. (They have video chats once a week now -- Spock was horrified when he found out. Jim maintains that it's Spock's fault for introducing them.)

Jim beams. "I did! I especially liked the one with the teddy bear. Young Spock was so cute."

"Wasn't he?" Amanda says, eyes twinkling.

"I don't know what happened," says Jim. He sends a fond glance over at Adult Spock, who's scowling down at his PADD and resolutely pretending not to eavesdrop.

Amanda laughs. "Tell him to come say hi to his mother."

Spock acts put-upon when Jim goes to extract him from whatever work he's doing, but Jim sees how his eyes soften once he's placed in front of the screen.

"Hi, honey," Amanda says, grinning at him.

"Hello, Mother."

"You're taking care of Jim for me, right?" Amanda teases. "I couldn't bear it if anything happened to him. We're planning to run away together, you know."

Spock frowns.

Jim smacks a kiss over the furrow of Spock's brow and delights in the way it makes him flush. "Don't worry, sweetheart. My heart belongs to you."

Spock rolls his eyes, but his blush doesn't dissipate, so Jim is onto him. "Whatever you say, Jim."

When Jim turns back to the camera, Amanda's smiling at him in that warm, grateful kind of way that never fails to make Jim self-conscious.

"How are things on New Vulcan?" he asks. He reaches over to grab Spock's hand, weaves their fingers together. Then he glances at Spock to check if that's okay and is gratified when Spock gives his hand a gentle squeeze.

_You softie,_ Jim wants to say. If they weren't in the middle of a conversation with Spock's mom right now, Jim would tackle Spock onto his bed - they're in Spock's quarters right now, since Spock refuses to step foot in Jim's until he deals with all of the dirty laundry strewn across the floor - and hold Spock's hands above his head while Jim pressed kisses onto his cute pointed ears and the corners of his mouth and under his jaw until Spock finally gave in and admitted that he's secretly a huge romantic.

_Later_ , Jim thinks.

"Oh, the usual," Amanda says. "Sarek insists on giving our new neighbors a hard time -- you remember me mentioning those human researchers who came to study Vulcan culture? Well, it turns out that their son brought his _tuba,_ and he's absolutely determined to practice it at night --"

The call continues like that for about half an hour, Jim and Amanda swapping anecdotes about their lives and occasionally making jokes about Vulcan stubbornness. Eventually Spock excuses himself to go check on something in his lab -- probably one of the plant samples he'd collected from the last planet they'd stopped at.

As soon as he's gone, Jim turns to Amanda and says, "I need some advice."

"Hmm?" Amanda raises an eyebrow. The resemblance to her son is striking.

"This probably sounds kind of juvenile, but the three-month anniversary of my relationship with Spock is coming up, and that's kind of a big deal, so I'm thinking about planning a surprise for him."

"Aww."

Jim says, beseeching, "Do you know what he might like? I've been brainstorming, but all I can come up with are things we already do."

It's true. Jim's been compiling a list of things that Spock enjoys -- including chess, holding hands, ugly sweaters, playing his lyre, and being right, among other things -- but none of them have led to any spectacular date ideas.

Amanda thinks about it. Then she says, "You may want to ask Michael about this. She knows Spock pretty well."

Jim blinks. _Michael? She? What?_ Amanda said that like Michael's someone Jim should already know, but Jim doesn't.

He remembers that name, though - Spock had mentioned it right before kissing Jim, had said that Jim reminded him of Michael.

And then Jim remembers the glittery package with a note attached that could be interpreted as flirty and the call that had made Spock blush weeks before Jim ever got the chance to. He connects the dots. Jim supposes that Michael must be an ex of Spock's, and they must have had an amicable break-up if they still kept in touch enough to know each other pretty well and send messages with winking emojis.

Jim's surprised by the surge of jealousy he feels. He pushes it down, tries to ignore it. Spock's his boyfriend, after all. Why should he care about this mystery person who's inexplicably close to Spock?

"I can forward you her contact information," Amanda offers.

"Sounds great."

Amanda does send him Michael's contact information, but Jim never calls, because...well. He's intimidated by the prospect of speaking to her only to discover that she's an amazing person who would be way more compatible with Spock than Jim is. And the more Jim thinks about coming up with romantic surprises, the more he wants to impress Spock on his own, _without_ Michael's help, thank you very much.

 

He ends up waiting until their next shore leave to surprise Spock. Together they beam down to a beautiful planet full of trees and exotic flowers, unfold a blanket to drape over the luminescent blue grass, and spend a good portion of the night holding hands and gazing up at the starry sky while small, cricket-like animals chirp around them.

It's perfect. It's theirs. And Jim thinks, smug, _Take_ _that, Michael. Whoever you are._


	5. -5

When the fifth time happens, Spock probably couldn't have told Jim if he tried, because most of his recent attempts at speaking have ended in a coughing fit.

It's unnerving. Jim’s never seen Spock get sick before, so he's wholly unprepared for the sight of his normally composed Vulcan boyfriend curled up on the couch in his quarters, feverish and miserable, apparently having come down with the virus that’s been spreading through the _Enterprise_ ’s crew.

“All right,” Jim says, making an executive decision. “We’re calling in sick today.”

Spock frowns at him. It doesn't have as much effect as it usually does -- Spock’s hair is disheveled, his face is flushed green, and he’s blinking rapidly as if that will make his eyelids feel less heavy. “No, _we_ are not,” he grumbles, voice hoarse. “You are needed on the bridge, Captain.”

Jim kneels down and presses a hand against Spock’s forehead, trying to gauge his temperature. He smiles a little at the way Spock leans into the touch. “They’ll survive without me for a day. I think I’m more needed here.”

Spock’s brow furrows. He starts to say, “Jim --”

And then he’s cut off by an onslaught of dry, painful-sounding coughs that make Jim wince in sympathy.

“I’m going to call Bones to let him know you’re sick, and then I’ll notify whoever’s on bridge this shift that we’re not coming in,” Jim says. He can’t decide whether he should be worried or relieved that Spock’s too exhausted to argue. “After that, you’re going to relax and let me take care of you.”

Spock stays silent, which Jim chooses to interpret as a sign of acquiescence. He ducks out of the room to make a few calls and try to convince an incredulous Bones that yes, he is voluntarily contacting Medbay, and no, he hasn’t been replaced by a pod person.  

When he steps back into the cozy living-room-like area, Spock’s still draped over the couch, but now he has his PADD out and is typing something on it.

“No working, Spock, you’re sick,” Jim says. He gently readjusts Spock so there’s space for Jim to slip onto the couch beside him.

Spock sighs and puts his PADD down. “What do you suggest we do instead?”

“Well,” Jim says. “Have you ever seen _The Princess Diaries?_ ”

   

About three hours later, they’re watching _Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement_ , and Jim’s trying to coax Spock into admitting that Jim’s more handsome than the actor who plays Lord Devereux when he notices that his boyfriend has gone suspiciously silent.

“Spock?” He glances down. Oh. Spock must have fallen asleep at some point between the Genovian Independence Day parade and Mia’s bachelorette party. Jim had felt the weight of Spock’s head on his shoulder, but he hadn’t realized until now that Spock wasn’t awake.

Jim’s glad that he’s sleeping; Spock needs the rest. Jim’s been trying not to fuss over him too much, knowing that Spock’s uncomfortable with blatant displays of emotion (including concern), but it’s hard to suppress the protective instincts that make him want to wrap Spock up in a warm blanket and hold him until he feels better.

_Poor Amanda,_ he thinks, suddenly.

And then, just as suddenly, he thinks _What?,_ because Spock’s PADD lights up with an incoming message.

Jim’s not the type to snoop through his boyfriend’s conversations, but the PADD is _right there_ on Spock’s lap, and when Jim’s eyes dart over to it he can’t help but read the message displayed on the screen:

 

    **Michael**

_I hope you feel better soon! Love you._

 


	6. +1

 If Jim wasn’t such a coward, he would shake Spock awake right this instant and finally request an explanation. He would say something like, "Who's Michael?" or "Why is she casually texting you love confessions when I've been halfway in love with you for years and even I haven't worked up the nerve to say the L-word yet?" or -- and this is the question that makes Jim's throat tighten when he thinks about asking it -- "Would you be happier in a relationship with someone other than me?"

Because if the answer’s yes, Jim would… he would… he doesn’t want to think about it.

 But Jim doesn't do any of that, because he's not brave enough. He's spent so much of his life trying to avoid getting too attached to people who deserve better than him that the prospect of finding out that the man he's made an exception for finally realized the truth of that deep, dark fear in the back of Jim's mind frightens Jim more than the idea of trying to drive another car off a cliff.

 Jim knows it's an unhealthy way to cope with the tangle of emotions that have been building up inside of him and that it’s likely to backfire spectacularly, okay, but he cares too deeply about Spock to risk losing him over this. Jim looks at Spock's PADD, then at Spock's face, his normally composed features softened by sleep, and something inside of him crumbles like a sandcastle being washing away by an incoming tide.

 He lets it go.

 

Jim has mostly succeeded in bottling up his suspicions for nearly two more weeks when it happens. The _Enterprise_ has landed at a Federation starbase for some ship repairs and a few days of shore leave for the crew, and Spock suggests dining at a restaurant that was highly recommended to him by a friend.

_A friend named Michael?_ Jim thinks about asking, but doesn’t.

Anyway, they have dinner at the restaurant, a cozy, Earth-like place that’s bustling with officers from all over the ‘fleet, and they’re just about to step outside when --

“Spock!” someone says, surprised.

Spock’s head jerks in the direction of the voice. Jim notices his eyes widen. “Michael,” Spock greets, sounding as pleased as he had that time when he put Jim’s king in check after only thirty-two moves.

Michael finishes walking over to them and pulls Spock into a hug. “I’ve missed you so much,” she murmurs.

_She seems wonderful_ , thinks Jim, a little bitter. (Maybe more than a little.)

Michael beams at Spock for a moment before turning that beam toward Jim, who’s been watching this interaction unfold with a kind of scrutiny that wouldn’t be out of place in a spectator at a football match. She says, “You must be Captain Kirk.”

Jim shifts uncomfortably. “Yep,” he says. “That’s me.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Captain. I feel like I practically know you already -- you’re all my brother ever talks about these days.”

_My brother._

_Brother._

A flashback to Amanda’s comment about Michael and Spock’s close relationship.

_She said my_ brother.

Jim has an aha moment. The dominoes fall into place; the planets align; the dots in his head connect, so to speak. “You’re… Spock’s sister.”

“I am,” Michael says. The pleasantness in her tone is betrayed by a sharp look in her eyes. “And as his sister, I can say that if you break his heart I will destroy you.”

Jim swallows. “Noted.”

Michael smiles again. “Sorry to threaten you so soon after we’ve met,” she says, “it’s just that shovel talks are much more effective delivered in person than over video chat, and I probably won’t have the opportunity to be in the same place as you for a while after this.”

“Michael,” Spock says, disgruntled. His cheeks are tinged green. “Was that necessary?”

Michael rolls her eyes. “Really, Spock, I’m just doing my sisterly duty. No complaining.”

Spock glowers but doesn’t say anything more.

The conversation is interrupted by the restaurant’s hostess saying, “Table for Michael?”

“That’s my cue,” says Michael. Before leaving she glances at Jim. “You should call me sometime. I’d like to get to know my future brother-in-law.”

Jim flushes.

 

“Why did you never tell me that Michael’s your _sister,_ Spock?” Jim demands once they’ve retired to their private quarters. “I spent so much time thinking that Michael was some kind of secret amour of yours.”

Spock blinks. “I - I thought you knew?”

“No,” Jim says, cross. “You never told me you had any siblings.”

“So you are not aware of my brother, either?”

Jim shoots Spock a look that he hopes conveys the full depth of his exasperation. “Exactly how big _is_ your family?”

 

After that they have a long talk about the importance of disclosing relevant personal information to one’s significant other, and how Jim’s not a fan of surprises, and also how Jim is absolutely going to be speaking to Amanda about this.

Once Jim has wound down a bit, Spock decides that now is the right time to take Jim’s hand and say, solemn-voiced but with a smile in his eyes, “Pursuing an affair with anyone else after knowing what it is like to be loved by you would be irrational, Jim. The joy that being your partner has to brought to my life has been incalculable.”

“ _Spock_ ,” Jim says, after a heartbeat. “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

The corners of Spock’s mouth quirk up. It’s dazzling. Jim’s dazzled. “Indeed, captain?”

Jim huffs. “I’m still upset with you, you know,” he says, but there’s no strength behind it.

 


End file.
